


Desire and Necessity

by Blue_Finch



Series: More Than Partners [4]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-13
Updated: 2013-11-13
Packaged: 2018-01-01 08:40:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1042749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Finch/pseuds/Blue_Finch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spawned from a line Finch said about desire and necessity<br/>There's a plot but mainly PWP<br/>Minor Spoilers for Mors Praematura and Perfect Mark<br/>Only the words belong to me</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Managerie was my beta and helped me out tremendously, you can see her influence.  
> Thanks M for all your help  
> Mistakes are mine  
> EDIT: split into two chapters

Harold could sense John was about to break.

It had been coming on for a while now. Of course, Finch had expected Reese’s barely contained anger when their number had given them the slip.

It was partly due to all three of them; Reese, Shaw and himself included falling for Hayden Price’s spiel about needing to see his girlfriend, make sure she was safe. The con man had conned them.

Price had appeared sincere, repentant even for being what he was, while voicing concern for his girlfriend, pleading to see her, only to escape out the hotel window, when John had made the mistake of leaving them alone for five minutes.

When it was discovered that Hayden used his girlfriend to escape, John Reese had reacted with unrestrained contempt. Harold knew that more than once contempt had been accompanied by John’s idea of justice, towards any man who abused a woman in any way.

A man professing his love for a woman, claiming that he had changed because of that love, wanting to leave his criminal past behind if only he could be with her, only to flee capture leaving said girlfriend behind to face the consequences alone, just to continue with his illegal dealings, was emotional abuse in Reese’s opinion.

Although Natalie, the girlfriend, only seemed to be confused and nothing more by Price’s behavior, it still triggered Reese’s disposition to make the abuser pay for John’s conceived violations towards a woman.

Finch could hear it in John’s voice every time he would check in with updates on his and Shaw’s search for the at-large con man. The frustration at their failure to find Price was pushing John past his boiling point.

Harold was sure, despite the con man’s duplicitous behavior, Hayden was still the victim in all this. Finch knew he had to do something, because with as close as Reese was to snapping, Harold was afraid if John found Hayden now...

While the situation with Price was close to being the catalyst to push John over the edge, Harold had to admit to himself, that was not what had drove John there in the first place.

He should have seen it building up all along. Finch, while he had missed the closeness, the physical intimacy he and John had finally allowed themselves to share nightly for one glorious week last spring, was able to tamp down his desire for partner. Harold had thought John was able to do the same.

Shaw had showed up uninvited again at the Library a month after she had assisted Reese tracking Harold down when he had been forced by circumstances to go with Root. Shaw had offered her services in whatever he and John did.

They both decided to bring her into the team because Shaw had helped them, maybe even saving Finch’s life by shooting Groves as she pointed her gun at Harold. That did not mean they totally trusted her knowing how she had shown her loyalty to Control’s mission if not their ethics.

So it had been a decision born out of necessity that the two men had decided to keep their personal relationship from Shaw. They were not sure she could be trusted with that bit of information. It could have disastrous effects if Shaw let that knowledge be known under any circumstances. Both John and he had to admit they would do anything, anything to save the other, anyone armed with that knowledge could---It was unthinkable.

And now Harold realized though John appeared in control of his emotions; his desires, his need to be with his partner, their lack of the physical intimacies these past months had pushed John to that edge.

‘Why didn’t I notice how edgy John has been?’ Harold now thought to himself. I should have seen it the night he saved me from that explosion a few weeks ago. John had gotten all three of them back to the safe house,

Harold and Sloan both reeked of gasoline fumes, even though they’d both stripped off their jackets, John throwing them in a trash bag and dumping the bag in a dumpster near the warehouse.

John had shown Sloan to the safe house’s guest bathroom, the soap in the cabinet and the robe hanging on the door. John promised the man he'd return with some clothes that fit but need to see to his partner first.

Harold still suffering from a bit of shock, was just standing there in the middle of the master suite, unable to do anything for himself. John had stripped him and helped him in the shower, then began soaping him all over to remove the gasoline residue, as Harold still couldn't seem to move to do it himself. Eventually, with his shock wearing off and actually seeing John’s face, he had shakily said, “John?” What had happened next was John stripping himself, getting in the shower too, then desperately and quickly stretching Harold. With Harold’s strangled, “Please?” John had turned Harold planting their joined right hands on the shower walls, and lined up his cock with his left and entered Finch in one swift movement. A few violent thrusts and John’s left hand jerking Harold off, they’d come together with near silent moans.

John had dried them both, helped Harold in to the master room’s queen sized bed, and was dressing to leave. Harold’s body was crashing, he was falling into the blessed oblivion of sleep before he could even ask John to stay.

The events that happened after saving the number Sloan, Shaw then showing up after with Samantha Groves in tow and deciding amongst themselves what to do with her and then the flurry of numbers that had come in after had kept Harold too occupied to dwell on what happened between him and John in the shower that night.

Harold was not the one to have initiated any of their lovemaking when they’d been together that week in the spring, it had always been John. However, John was always slow, patient, kind. That night in the shower John was hurried, rough. Desperate.

John had always been a tactile person with Harold. Finch had tensed up at first whenever John would put a hand on his shoulder or deliberately brush his fingers against Harold’s handing him a cup of tea. He’d come to enjoy all the innocent little touches, even more when they’d become intimate. John even more so.

Now because of Shaw, they’d not only stopped being intimate, he hadn’t even allowed John to touch him for fear Shaw would suspect. John required touch, even though they both had decided against even innocent brief touches, John still needed it.

Decision made, Harold tapped his earpiece, “John, please return to the safe house. I think it best if we wait to see if Detective Carter can enlighten us along with her source as to what Hayden is so desperate to find that he would risk his life. Ms. Shaw you can go back to _The_ _Coronet_ , keep tabs on Natalie please. Price may contact her again. Don’t under any circumstances let her out of your surveillance.”

Harold had plans to set in motion. Mr. Reese and Finch would not be needed for the rest of the night. Ms. Shaw was protecting the girlfriend while the Number was untraceable right now according to Detective Carter and her sources. A quiet night in for Mr. Reese and himself seemed at the very least their due.

~~*~~ 


	2. Chapter 2

When John Reese opened the door to the safe house, it was with his usual over cautious nature; gun drawn, stone faced and senses on high alert. The room was dark with only lit candles scattered about to light the way. John leaned back into the hallway to double check. No, the electricity was working for the building. Perplexed, Reese shut the door and called out, “Finch?”

A muffled voice answered, “In the bedroom, John.”

Reese started towards the master suite and noticed rose petals littered the path. In a daze, Reese walked to the door and pushed it open. Inside, the scene that greeted the stressed and beleaguered warrior had him sliding his revolver onto a dresser and stripping instantly.

What Reese saw was his lover out of his damnably usual three piece suit of armor and in one of John’s own white shirts from the closet. Finch wore it like a night shirt. Overly long on him but short enough that John could see that was all Harold wore. Unbuttoned down just far enough that John could see some of Harold’s chest hair, the gray and brown forest John loved to run his fingers through. The sight of Harold in _John’s_ shirt had the effect of ramping up John’s libido to a fevered pitched. Reese had his own pants and jacket off instantly.

Harold turned at the noise and seeing John striping, smiled shyly and blushed hotly seeing his tall handsome partner undressing before him.

Harold had seen John’s bare chest, the smooth skin that covered well defined abs and pecs, had allowed himself to touch many times as John’s friend and nurse. A jolt of desire shot to Finch’s groin then, his hands trembling, remembering the first time he’d allowed himself to sensually run his fingers down the velvet skin and over the hard muscle there that warm spring evening they’d first made love. Now as his lover removed his shirt, Harold could only stand motionless as the beauty of John Reese which was revealed to him once more.

As John removed his shirt, he watched the look on his lover’s face change from one of self-consciousness to adoration to naked want. Reese was an aging, battle scarred warrior in his own mind. John didn’t understand what the older man saw when looking at him. Yet, that unbridled desire on the man’s face lit a fire deep in John’s belly, hardening his cock.

Harold was so caught up watching his lover undress he’d forgot his plan for romance. When Reese reached out for him Harold grabbed his hands and pulled John down with him to sit on the bed.

When John went to ask Harold why he stopped him, Harold just put his hand on John’s mouth to quiet him, then reaching over to pull a wrapped box to them, that Reese hadn’t noticed there before.

“For you John. It’s for you.”

The shy smile was back on Harold’s face as he pushed the box towards John. Reese fixed the box further up onto his lap, even though he had wanted to just push it aside and kiss the smile on that face, that gorgeous wonderful face.

John opened the box instead, moving aside the tissue to reveal a pair of the shiniest black leather boots with real silver buckles and chains around the ankles. The boots replete with silver toe and heel guards.

“Harold? These are wonderful, but I just bought a new pair.”

“I know I paid the bill,” Harold laughed, “Look, there is more.”

Under the boots was a sales brochure of the most beautiful Ducati he’d ever seen.

John looked at the other man.

Harold was smiling again, expectantly this time. “Do you like it John?”

“Yes, but a Ducati 696, Harold? I already have a Ducati, why another?”

“Two John, special order, one for each of us; Silver on black. There’s something else.” Harold pulled out a driver’s license, a recent issue for Harold Gull, with a motorcycle endorsement. “Detective Fusco was a motorcycle cop at one time you know, he taught me, I wanted to surprise you. That’s why I never asked.”

“I ordered these, also, two sets.” Harold turned the brochure over showing John the set of leathers exactly like the rider’s in the motorcycle ad. “I can’t very well ride where the wind takes us in one of my bespoke suits, now can I John?”

Reese was speechless so Harold explained. “We need to get away John. Take time off as it were. In between the numbers, you and I. Let’s just go.”

“But Shaw, Harold. What will she think?” John worried.

“We’ll just be two aging men going through a delayed midlife crisis, trying to recapture our youth riding around on juiced up motorcycles, wearing bad ass leathers. She shouldn’t be able to follow us or know where we even go to spy on what we do John.”

“We need to be together John, we can’t keep denying ourselves anymore. If we can get away even for a few hours, we need to try.”

John moved closer to Finch and circled his arms around the waist. “Yes,” John said. Reese pressed his nose into the open collar of the shirt to nuzzle at the curls usually hidden by tie and suit. The special cologne Harold wore was subtle, fragrant, and expensive. It made John’s head swim.

Having Harold in his arms, safe and available got John’s blood pumping and his erection returned full force. Reese pressed his cock against Harold’s belly and used his arms to grind them together. John groaned low in the back of throat, but Harold began to struggle, trying to push away.  John of course released him immediately, but gave Finch a puzzled look.

Harold kissed John in apology. “I love you and want you, but we have all night. No need to hurry this time.” Finch smiled and joined his hands with Reese’s pulling them to and placing them on his own chest.

Coyly, Harold ran his hands down John’s sides and up the planes of his muscular back. He leaned in to kiss John once more, whispering against his lips, “Please...touch me now,” before pressing his tongue into John’s mouth, flicking it over smooth teeth then plunging deeper to taste the sweetness there.

Reese usually the one to take the lead in their lovemaking held back momentarily before sucking Harold’s tongue further into his mouth.

John had never doubted the depth of Harold's love, but was uncertain how much he actually wanted Reese physically. To have Harold retake control of their lovemaking now lifted a heaviness John had been feeling in his heart that Harold hadn’t truly wanted him, was giving up his body only to please Reese.

To feel Harold’s hands roaming his body, his tongue probing deeper into John’s mouth was more intoxicating than any aphrodisiac. With a moan, John reached between them, undoing the remaining buttons of the shirt Harold wore, pushing it open then splaying his hands over Harold’s fur covered pecs, touching the soft pink nipples hidden in the patches of gray and brown.

When he felt Harold’s tongue retreating from his mouth, he only let Harold break their lips contact long enough to let him take a deep breath before John drew him back in, pressing his lips against Finch’s plunging his tongue now into Harold’s mouth.

Both men then took turns plundering the other’s mouth, while using their hands to touch every inch of the other’s reachable skin. When they finally pulled away, breathless and panting, Harold rasped out in between gulping in gasps of air, “I…wanted…to…take...this...slow...John...fuck…me...now..”

John had to reign in the overpowering urge to scoop up Harold under his legs and flip him over face first onto the bed, flip the shirt up, part the cheeks of Harold’s naked ass underneath it, then sink his cock, balls deep into the tight rose and the heat beyond it.

Harold would let him do just that; his need for John was so intense right now that Finch had slipped into the seldom if ever heard use of vulgarity. Only, John was not about to hurt the man he loved in a fit of passion. Harold was strong, far stronger than his frail and injured body would ever seem to be, but frail it was nonetheless.

“Yes, Harold, yes, in time, be patient.” He pulled Finch towards him again, briefly kissing him before gently removing the shirt, nipping and sucking at each bit of bared shoulder as it was revealed.

John stood, dropping his shirt, the one Harold had worn to the floor, before bending to remove his boxers and dropping them on top of the shirt. Harold had continued to breath heavily through John’s administrations to his shoulder, and it made Reese’s cock twitch hearing Finch’s gasp for air and swallowing it down when he’d seen how John’s erection was full and hard.

Harold had always worried John would coddle him because of his disabilities. Yet, Finch never felt more treasured than when John bent down, slid his arm under Harold’s legs and gently helped him on the bed to lie on his good side.

When John felt that Harold was comfortable on his side, injured neck comfortably supported by the arranged pillows, John lay down by his lover. Reese took the bottle of lube Harold had pulled from under one of them, waving it around for John to take.

Harold heard the snap of the cap, turned slightly front forward towards the bed allowing John more access. It felt like forever before John inserted one finger through Harold’s tight cradle of muscle. John stretched him one finger, two, and then three. Harold wrapped his hand around his own shaft, stroking himself as John worked his fingers in and out.

John flipped the cap of the lube bottle open once more, slicking up his cock. When John inserted his finger again and touched the spongy mass of his lover’s prostate, Harold had practically screamed and begged, “John enough, now, please, now.” John then lined up his cock’s head, slowly pushing in.

Harold had jerked himself almost painfully when John’s finger had rubbed his prostate, the jolt of pleasure so intense and unexpected. He’d almost shouted out his plea again for John to enter him. So, when Harold felt the head of John’s cock breach his opening, he was long past wanting to take it slow. He pushed himself backwards until he felt John's cock deep within.

John hadn’t expected Harold to push back, taking his cock inside all at once. He’d wanted to go slow, pleasure Harold with gentle thrusting. Instead, uncontrollably, he roughly snapped his hips against Harold three times before his orgasm hit him spilling his seed deep inside Harold. Not what he wanted. He began kissing the back of Harold's neck softly whispering, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” then he reached around his hand joining Harold’s hand on Harold’s cock to help Finch stroke himself to his own completion.

Harold hadn’t expected John to come so quickly; his own release from John’s cock inside wouldn’t be this time. He whispered back, “John it’s okay, I’m okay,” while welcoming John’s hand on his own, still rocking himself on the almost hard erection still buried in him.

John couldn’t believe his body's reaction to Harold still fucking himself on John’s _ **—hardening shaft** **?**  _The sensation of his still warm ejaculate surrounding his cock, made it even harder if that were possible. John then did what he’d wanted to do before, thrusting gently and slowly into Harold.

Only after he’d felt Harold tense, and Harold’s ejaculate covering both their hands, did he push into his lover urgently, once, twice, to reach orgasm again, even more intense this time.

They lay there, still connected, long after their orgasmic highs had faded and breathing became normal, before John pulled out. He got up then to get them something from the bath to clean them both up. He climbed back into bed then covering them both, then fell asleep his arm resting over his lover’s chest.

It was only an hour or two later when he awoke alone, voices from somewhere else in the safe house reaching his ears. Dressing himself once more and entering the main room, he found Harold alone, fully armored again sitting at the long table.

Well not surprising, back to business as usual. “What’s going on?” he asked startling Finch a little.

“Detectives Carter and Fusco checked in. You just missed them, they couldn’t stay long, and they had someone  _waiting_  in the car. We were discussing what to do with our  _dead_ antique’s dealer.  I didn’t want to wake you, when Detective Carter called.”

Harold told him what they had planned to do with Sven. John got up to leave. “I better go give them a hand then, Harold.”

Harold removed his tie and threw it on the table, “No, John, no. This is our night and the only place you are going is back to bed.”

John walked around the table to stand behind Harold bending down to whisper in his ear.

“Only if you come with me.”

_finis_

**Author's Note:**

> guys don't buy guys candy, they buy them Ducatis


End file.
